


'tis the damn season (let's make this yuletide gay)

by Yellow_Bird_On_Richland



Category: Pitch Perfect (Movies)
Genre: Christmas Fluff, Domestic Fluff, F/F, Merry Pitchmas Gift Exchange 2020, bechloe - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-25
Updated: 2020-12-25
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:15:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28308114
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yellow_Bird_On_Richland/pseuds/Yellow_Bird_On_Richland
Summary: Beca Mitchell's never been an outright Grinch. She just doesn't get why, exactly, people make such a big deal about Christmas.That is, until she moves into the Bella house her senior year and gets to spend the run-up to the holidays with the rest of the girls.With one girl amongst all of them, in particular.
Relationships: Chloe Beale/Beca Mitchell
Comments: 10
Kudos: 65





	'tis the damn season (let's make this yuletide gay)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [gilligankane](https://archiveofourown.org/users/gilligankane/gifts).



Chloe eagerly begins Beca's indoctrination into Bella Christmas traditions a bit after Thanksgiving, during the first weekend of December.

"Don't we have a regular sized fake tree in the basement?" Beca frowns as she slides into the passenger seat of Chloe's aquamarine Camry.

"Yes, but we also always get a little Charlie Brown tree for the authentic pine needle scent. And to remind us that anyone can shine with a little love and care. Aubrey's words, not mine," Chloe adds as she watches Beca roll her eyes. "I think Alice started doing it because the Bellas used to be at each other's throats way more often, and this was her weird way of trying to manufacture peace. Aubrey carried it on from there," she explains. "I actually _do_ agree that it's a touch cheesy, but it's still a nice tradition."

"And it's tradition that the co-captains do all this extra Yuletide nonsense?"

Beca puts forth the question with a tired, half-exasperated sigh to prop up her (fading) badass persona more than anything else. Sure, she's still busy with her internship, and she hasn't made the Bellas as much of a priority this year, but Chloe's different.

She can always find time for Chloe.

"Yes, it is. But if you're too swamped, I can do some of it myself, or recruit one of the other girls to help. I wouldn't wanna impose on you, Becs." Chloe glances at her as she merges onto the highway, concern starting to creep over her features, and Beca's torn between guilt at her needless snark and her usual admiration of her best friend's effortless beauty.

"No, no," Beca reassures her. "It's just, Christmas was never that exciting or enjoyable for me growing up, you know, with how my parents were. It sort of stopped feeling magical by the time I was, like, eight."

God, she's beyond pathetic, sharing this kind of sappy nonsense.

But Chloe gazes at her thoughtfully, murmurs, "I'm sorry. You—you should've had that, for a little longer."

Beca's laugh is more of a dry rattle. "Oh well. It is what it is. Not much to do about it now."

"I think you might be wrong there, my friend," Chloe answers, a hint of a smile playing on her lips. It's probably Beca's favorite out of all her expressions.

(It's natural, isn't it, to catalogue the many faces your best friend makes? No one can blame her, not with how often she's watched Chloe during performances.)

"How do you figure?" Beca asks.

Chloe beams at her. "Because I'm gonna make sure this Christmas is extra special for you. Just call me Santa Beale."

If Beca's life was one of Jesse's movies, a timely, bubbly, quasi-romantic Christmas song—"Walking in a Winter Wonderland," say—would play on the radio, rather than an ad for Cherokee Joe's Smoke Shop.

If Beca's life was one of Jesse's movies, she'd pull Chloe in for a kiss right now. Or at least offer her a peck on the cheek.

But it's not.

So she doesn't.

It's honestly unfair, the way this crush on Chloe has turned so all-encompassing, so overwhelming. If it was only a physical thing, just lust driven, she would've acted on it by now. Would've dared to steal a kiss during some scorching day in July when Chloe disappeared into her room fully clothed one minute and came back out in her seafoam green bikini five minutes later to jump in the pool like it was nothing.

" _After all, Stacie and I kissed during last year's Halloween party and it didn't change anything for us,"_ Beca reflects. _"But I'd never be able to kiss Chloe just for fun."_

As a result, she's relegated herself to limbo, or maybe purgatory. She's a confidante who can't confess, an Icarus who can't gauge if the potential fall would offer salvation or damnation, a best friend who could realistically go home with Chloe for Christmas without having a single romantic overtone apply.

"We're here!" Chloe chirps as she pulls into the parking lot. "C'mon. Let's go get us a tree."

Beca automatically grabs Chloe's left hand with her right—what with the endless international escapades, using the buddy system makes sense, especially when the Bellas are in various states of intoxication, and it's just kinda carried over to their day-to-day errands.

"You alright?" Chloe asks as they start perusing. "You seem extra quiet today."

"Just thinking about music," she lies. It's a reflex, and it's not the best habit.

"Something for the Bellas, or more of a personal project?" Chloe asks back, with the hint of frost in her voice saying, _"Tread carefully."_

Beca's not sure how to manage that, considering both her options are falsehoods, but one rings a touch more true than the other. "It's a personal project."

" _Emphasis on_ _person_ _. AKA you, Chlo."_

How hard would it be to just tell her? To get closure, one way or the other?

"Is miss Beca Mitchell going to make a foray into Christmas music, perhaps?" Chloe teases as they inspect a couple of short, squat trees.

And this, of course, is the crux of the problem: since she's never hinted about her feelings toward Chloe, there's never any sort of opening to pry at. What's she supposed to say? _"No, I doubt I'll make Christmas music, but never say never. Oh, by the way, I've had a massive crush on you since last year, at least, and can we please go on a proper date?"_

"Earth to Beca," Chloe comments after a few beats.

"S-sorry," she stammers as she wrenches herself back into reality. "Um…" honestly, her hypothetical self had a pretty decent answer. "I doubt I'll get into Christmas music, but I wouldn't totally rule it out. I don't think I'd wanna do a cover, though. Or at least not a classic one. They're too overdone."

"You're such a fuckin hipster, sometimes," Chloe answers with a bemused head shake.

"Am not."

Chloe snorts. "Please. Have you looked in a mirror today? Red and black checkered flannel, purple beanie, dark-washed skinny jeans, black Converse? You're practically a hipster _model."_

This is where Chloe's words get Beca in trouble and trip her up. Because she always delivers those lines with such cool confidence and transforms them into statements of fact, whereas Jesse, or any guy who was interested in her, would've tripped over them tipped her off to the fact that they were flirting. Or at least trying to.

With Chloe, she's never quite sure. She wants to ask, but, again, she doesn't know how.

She offers a sincere, "Thank you," in any event; acknowledging Chloe's compliments always keeps her spirits bright, and she doesn't want to accidentally ruin this holiday outing, especially since she dealt with enough National Lampoon-esque, tinsel-covered catastrophes growing up.

"How about that one?" Beca points at a small tree.

Chloe studies it from a few different angles, catches Beca's gaze, and tilts her head toward the tree. "Get your cute butt over there. I wanna do a size comparison and make sure it's not too tiny."

Beca arches an eyebrow at her. "And you need me for that because…?"

"You're nearly the same height as the tree," Chloe chirps at her cheerfully.

"Bah humbug," Beca scowls, but she follows Chloe's directions, anyway. To be nice.

" _Yep, you're nice. Nice and whipped."_

Her pesky subconscious has been making such observations more and more often lately, and she usually deflects the small (large) kernels of truth in them, but today, as Chloe comes over to insist they take a Charlie Brown Christmas tree selfie together, she kinda doesn't care.

They go through the same process with two more trees until they decide to circle back to the first one, and she should be annoyed that Chloe's dragging her into such a dorky tradition.

It's a challenge to be anything but light and half-giddy, though, as she gets to pose with her favorite ginger repeatedly, leaning in close so they can fit both themselves and their potential tree selections in the frame while Chloe snaps pics to send to the girls.

Beca notices another actual couple doing the same thing. With a regular sized tree, of course, like normal people. But still.

She almost can't recognize herself sometimes. How she's allowed a motley crew of singing sisters to slowly deconstruct her walls. How she's gone from holding them at a distance to letting them in. How she's gone from merely allowing that intimacy into her life to welcoming it.

Or, at least, she welcomes it with all the girls. With Chloe, she craves it. She loves the casual way they've developed their double act over the years. The way they've formed something of a domestic partnership to become the Bellas' unofficial parents.

It reminds her of Jeff and Britta's dynamic in season 1 of Community, and so does their easy banter. But those characters seem to misfire with their timing constantly. They dangle on the cusp of opening up, but they're never quite able to fully do it, and Beca definitely relates to that hurdle.

When they're hauling their small tree back to Chloe's car, she tries to tell herself there's nothing more than deep friendship between them, that all these seemingly significant moments don't count for anything substantial.

_"If they don't, then why do you linger on them so often?"_

Beca blasts K.Flay's "Rest Your Mind" as they pull onto the highway and tries to follow the order from the track title, but she can feel Chloe's eyes on her while she's rapping and she's wearing that quietly content smile.

And Beca doesn't wanna see it leave her face.

**

"Remind me again why I agreed to this when I'm five foot nothing?" Beca grunts as she strains to haul the Bellas' big fake tree up the basement stairs.

Chloe pokes her head out from around the bottom of the tree before she hoists it up again and answers, "Because you like being in your charming co-captain's good graces and you wanna show off your muscles from going to the gym more this year?"

"One out of two ain't bad, Beale. But you gotta pay if you wanna see the gun show," she sasses back.

"You're painfully lame." They drop the tree down once they've hauled it out from its musty home in the basement.

"I was cool once. Before I started spending all my time with a certain acapella group," Beca argues.

Chloe's eye roll betrays her massive skepticism, and her voice drips heavy with sarcasm as she replies, "Sure you were, Beca. Sure you were. By the way," she adds, "I've recruited some of the other girls to help with decorating the tree, if you want a reprieve."

Beca nods. "I've got some homework to do, actually, but I'll probably be down later if you're still putting on ornaments then."

"Sounds good. And thanks for contributing to the start of the holiday season around here. It means a lot to me."

"You're welcome, Chloe."

Beca manages to bullshit a decent chunk of her Latin American history essay together and puts a solid dent in her close reading of "The Cask of Amontillado" for her Gothic fiction class before she decides to take a break. Typically, that'd involve watching Netflix (she's gotten seriously invested in _Narcos_ ) or crafting some mashups, but her laptop's not calling to her the way it so often does.

Holiday tunes are softly drifting upstairs, and they pull her, trancelike, back down to the living room after she starts outlining the conclusion of her Poe paper.

She doesn't have a Grinch heart, but something in her chest glows at the sight of Chloe, Stacie, Jessica, and Emily all decorating the tree together.

"Sup, fearless leader number two," Stacie comments when she comes down.

"Hi, Beca!" Emily, peppermint sweet as always, greets her with a wave and asks, "Here to help with sprucing up the tree?"

"Sure, if you could use another set of hands."

The other four ladies collectively groan.

"The Bellas have gathered plenty of ornaments over the years. Probably too many," Chloe concedes. "But at least we have a lot of variety to choose from."

"Oh, Beca, before you get started with decorating," Jessica pipes up, "feel free to add some Christmas songs to our Spotify playlist."

"Thanks, Jessica." She searches for a handful of her favorites and throws them into the queue, and she smiles softly as a few gently strummed guitar chords play through the speakers to announce the start of _Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas._

"Why is this singer's voice so familiar?" Chloe wonders.

Emily squeals. "It's Zooey Deschanel! She sings a Christmas song or two in _Elf!_ "

"Did you put this on, then?" Jessica asks, but Emily shakes her head.

They glance at each other, all offering various negations, before they turn to Beca. She wills herself to ignore Chloe's smirk, even as she feels her cheeks flush pink.

"What?" Beca argues. "She's a good singer and she honors the classics with a modern twist!"

Stacie shrugs. "No need to defend yourself to me. I'd mack on Zooey all day." She shoots Beca a wolfish grin. "You think she's a looker, too, cap'n?"

Beca takes a deep breath and can't help but wonder why she ever thought coming back down here was a good idea. Chloe's look swings from impish to curious, though, and it short-circuits her brain further. She stammers, "She's not, um, unattractive, I guess," in response to Stacie's question.

"Zooey Deschanel is not unattractive. There's that unmatched Beca Mitchell eloquence," Stacie deadpans.

"Oh, shut up," she huffs, but it's all bluster; she loves her girls, even when they drive her crazy (which is all too often). And at least decorating the tree helps distract her from cataloguing the shifts in how Chloe viewed her during that whole weird exchange.

They all eventually quit after getting the big tree about half-decorated. They're going more front heavy because who's going to see the back of a fake tree?

"We can do more during the week, or maybe next weekend. Oh, and I'm making cutout cookies next Saturday!" Chloe announces. "If anyone," she shoots a not-so-sly look at Beca, "would care to join me, I'd love the company."

"Sure," she agrees easily, because it's Chloe, and she doesn't want to dash her Christmas spirit, and she can be nice, sometimes.

" _Nice and whipped,"_ her brain whispers again when Chloe offers her a high-five and a hip bump and goosebumps spike up on her forearms at the contact.

**

Beca wonders, as she presses down on a candy cane-shaped cookie cutter, whether this is how her holidays could have been growing up if her family hadn't fallen apart. There's no snow in Georgia, of course, and they've taken a break from playing Christmas music for now, but the laughter echoing through the kitchen as the Bellas fill trays with cutout cookies? The way they all sneak tiny bites of excess cookie dough?

It's more enjoyable than she'd believed it could be.

It also doesn't hurt that Chloe's a gorgeous paragon of festive domesticity, wearing her usual blue jeans and a forest green sweater with a white snowflake pattern running along the bottom. It's a cute look, and the red apron she's got draped on over her top that reads "Be Merry and Bright" in silver cursive complements it perfectly.

Chloe's always naturally stunning, she knows—it's just an objective _fact_ , she's not checking her out or anything—but different environments highlight unique aspects of her beauty, and studying those impact points can kinda leave Beca dazed, as if she's been peering into a kaleidoscope for too long. Like right now, with the bright kitchen lights bringing out the sparkle in her blue eyes and the deep contour of her collarbones.

"I'm surprised you took to this so easily, Becs," Chloe comments. She swats Fat Amy's greedy hands away with her spatula before warning her, "No more stealing cookie dough, you've already had three decent sized chunks."

"C'mon, Mom!" Amy complains before sidling up next to Beca. "Hello to my favorite Bella. Can I see that…" she leans hopefully over Beca's workstation.

Beca nudges Amy out of the way, too. "Nope. Chloe's running the ship. Er, kitchen. Her rules go. If you wanna eat cookie dough, you can run out to Aldi and get some yourself, Amy."

"Ugh, I thought you were the cool mom, Beca. Shoulda figured you'd side with Red, you always do," Amy mutters as she leaves the kitchen, drawing laughs from Ashley and Cynthia Rose, who'd also been assisting with dessert prep.

"Do not," Beca protests, drawing snorts from the rest of the girls, though Chloe didn't seem to notice as she began painstakingly icing a batch of trees she'd just pulled from the oven.

Beca turns to the other two and asks them, "What?" just before Amy comments, "I'm outta here faster than a dingo huntin' for a burger at a barbie. Getting more cookie dough sounds great right about now."

"We didn't say anything," Cynthia Rose answers, exchanging a faux innocent look with Ashley before they giggle.

"Hey, Beca, you mind starting to frost the snowmen once they cool down?" Chloe asks as she pulls another tray.

"Sure, Chlo," she nods, but as Ashley and C.R. glance at each other again, something in her rebels. Just a little.

"Actually, would you mind if I do the stars first?"

"Yeah, no problem. Thanks, girl," Chloe hums as she slides the final batch of cookies into the oven.

Beca expects to feel embarrassed at just how easily she acquiesces to Chloe's requests and whims, but really, she doesn't mind.

 _"After all,"_ she thinks, _"what's wrong with being devoted to…"_

The diction behind her inner monologue makes her freeze up.

Specifically, that word "devotion." Its religious connotations. Its hint toward possession, obsession. Almost captivity, even.

She's devoted to her own music, and to music in general. To the Bellas, too, even if her work for competitions has waned a bit thanks to her crazy schedule. She's dedicated to the various Bella friendships more, these days.

But being devoted to one person? That's rare for Beca. She'd been faithful to Jesse, sure, and she'd cared for him deeply, but her capacity for loving him just hadn't run as deep as his had for her. They'd tried to get past that, but her feelings for him (or lack thereof) stayed resolute, so their relationship had collapsed. They're better as really good friends, though, even if it's been a minute since they've chatted. He's been busy making indie film scores and she's been juggling school, her internship, Bella stuff. _"I should hit him up,"_ Beca thinks.

" _Right after I process the fact that I'm deeply devoted to one Chloe Elizabeth Beale."_

Chloe gently pulls her in for a group baking photo and no, no, no, she can't handle this danger right now. Chloe's cheeks are flushed and her eyes are popping like flashbulbs and she smells like vanilla and Beca can tell they're wearing each other's favorite smiles—the ones that are a touch too wide, not quite picture perfect.

She doesn't run after they snap a handful of pictures, but she mutters, "I'm gonna go to my room for a minute," and starts to slink away.

Chloe frowns. "Are you okay?"

"Just a little hot," she chokes out, and fortunately, Ashley saves her with a nod. "It's gotten a bit toasty in here with the oven being on for so long."

"Do you want some water?" she hears Chloe call as she's about to go up the stairs, and she nearly laughs because of course that offer comes from the woman she's nearly drowning for. "Nah, thanks, though," she replies, silently thanking her voice for not wavering too much as she raised it.

Beca expects her room will be blissfully empty as she swings the door open, but Amy's there, which rather detracts from her dramatic flop onto her bed.

"Weren't you going to get cookie dough?" She hates the pathetic whine in her voice, but she needs a minute to herself, and Amy's not exactly the quiet type.

"I was, but I couldn't find your money for it."

"...hang on a sec, what?"

"Just a little joke, short-stack, calm down." Amy takes a good look at her. "What's wrong? You look like a joey who just got kicked out its mum's pouch."

"I'm…" she's about to use one of three plausible explanations, that she's tired, or stressed, or trying to think of a good mix. And, sure, none of those are exactly lies, per se, but they're not the root cause of why she's feeling like an angsty teenager right now.

Beca's not sure how the truth slips out. Maybe because it's been swirling under the surface for so long. "I'm crazy for her. And I don't know what to do about it."

Amy won't need to ask who she's referring to, Beca knows that, but she thinks the admission might silence her for a second.

"Hallelujah, you finally admitted it! And what the hell d'you mean, you don't know what to do about it? Go _tell her_ , you bozo!"

"Can you keep it down?" she hisses back. "And I can't just do that. I mean, what if she's not at all interested in me like that and just wants to keep being friends? What if I screw up at telling her so badly that she loses interest? I've watched the Bachelorette thanks to you all, I know it can happen," Beca frets.

"First of all, there are no producers here," Amy answers, then tacks on, "Well, maybe in Stacie's bedroom, depending on what she gets up to. But you've got nothing to worry about, Beca. Chloe's your person. It'll go fine. If you're worried...hell, maybe make her a mix or a song or something? Music's your mutual language. That'd probably work, right?"

"I'd agree, except I've tried the mix thing before and she hasn't gotten it," Beca replies glumly. "Maybe I'll go with that plan again. Thanks for listening, Amy."

"Of course. If you need any more help on your quest, just lemme know, yeah?" Amy gives her a hug before she finally departs for her cookie dough, and Beca wills her mind to go blank for a bit.

It'd be a fair sight easier if she couldn't hear Chloe leading the girls in a rousing rendition of " _All I Want For Christmas Is You."_

She wallows in misery for a second before inspiration delivers a lightning strike, and she rushes to put her "Mixing In Progress—Please Knock" sign on her bedroom door.

" _It's close enough to the truth to pass for it,"_ Beca tells herself as she retrieves her acoustic guitar from her closet, then grabs an old songwriting notebook out from the bottom drawer of her work desk.

It takes her a minute to tune her guitar, and she has to run through a couple scales to get the feeling of playing back in her fingertips, but maybe Amy was on to something.

Lyrics flow freely from her pen onto her notebook page like Franzia at a trashy Treble party after she arranges the melody, and she can't tell if this counts as the worst or best idea she's ever had in terms of making a Christmas gift.

**

"How can any movie with Bruce Willis in it be considered a Christmas movie?" Flo asks the group.

"How can this one _not_ be? It starts at a holiday party on Christmas Eve," Cynthia Rose counters while Lilly mutters something about the best way to leave enemies with spinal paralysis.

"Speaking of holiday parties, it's kinda nice to have one where we didn't try to make some boozy, candy cane flavored concoction that tastes like lighter fluid," Stacie adds, to general agreement and cheers from everyone else. "It's a lot more homey."

"Applause is in order for miss Chloe Beale, for her prescient decision to ban the Trebles from this particular party," Amy calls. "Hear, hear."

Chloe smiles, ducks her head in a modest nod, and raises her wine glass in acknowledgment.

"We appreciate your sacrifice to not see Bumper for a day, Ames," Beca teases as she gets up and heads toward the kitchen. "Anyone else need a refill? Legacy, Chloe, more red for the both of you?" she asks after spotting them looking up with interest.

"More red for red!" Chloe half-laughs, half-snorts at her awful pun, and Beca laughs despite herself.

Emily accepts the two wine glasses from her after Beca says, "I need a Frosty the IPA." A chill runs through her at the first sip of her ice-cold beer.

"C'mere, ba...Beca," Chloe tells her, patting the seat next to her on the couch, and her face is flushed close to the same color as her hair. "We can share the blanket."

"Thanks," she murmurs as she settles in, trying to tell herself that nothing happened.

_"You're definitely not hearing things, though. Chloe Beale just almost called you 'babe.'"_

She keeps trying to tell herself that nothing's happening as Chloe covers her left hand with her right and links their fingers easily.

She keeps trying to tell herself that nothing's happening as she presses up closer to Chloe, turns to the side, and slowly leans her head against her shoulder.

She keeps trying to tell herself that nothing's happening when the two of them slowly doze off like that after the movie's over and wake to find they're alone in the living room.

Beca stretches out her neck with an unholy _crack_ as Chloe rubs the half-earned sleep out of her eyes.

"Bella Christmas tomorrow, before we all go home for break," she yawns. "Hard to believe it's already almost a new year, isn't it?"

"You're telling me," Beca mumbles. She slowly pads over to the stairs, trying to wait for Chloe without making that all too obvious.

Chloe joins her on the trek up to the second floor.

Beca's hard-pressed to say if it's the booze or the holiday season, but the moment feels oddly intimate, an extension of their easy, relaxed contact on the couch.

"Night, Becs," Chloe whispers as she stops at the threshold of her bedroom.

"Night, Chlo."

Her brain keeps her awake for far too long with a jump-roping rhythm of _tell her, kiss her, tell her, kiss her_ before she thinks, _"Enough. I'm going to. Tomorrow."_

She means it, for once, what with having a deadline instead of the inherently unknowable "someday," and that makes all the difference in helping her fall asleep.

**

"Merry Bella Christmas!" Amy shouts.

Beca gropes for her phone and checks the time. "It's not even quarter past 8 yet, Amy," she grumbles.

"But it's Bella Christmas!" she insists.

"And I'll be more excited about that when I'm more awake."

"Whatevs, loser," Amy scoffs as she exits their room.

Beca hears Chloe's bedroom door squeak open and giggles at her similarly muted reaction to Amy's jubilance. She considers calling out to Chloe, but she's already in the bathroom and turning the shower on.

Beca rolls toward her nightstand, reaches for her phone, and texts Chloe before her courage fails her.

_Since Amy was so subdued about it...HAPPY BELLA CHRISTMAS! Pop over when you get outta the shower, Red._

She doesn't bother pretending she'll be able to drift back off to sleep now, and her breath ricochets in her chest when she hears Chloe's laugh ring out in response to her message.

Chloe bounds in, decked out in her favorite red and white holiday reindeer pajamas, and Beca can't get over just how hard she's fallen for the biggest dork she knows.

"Merry Bella Christmas to my favorite co-captain!" she fairly sings. "Don't tell Bree I said that."

"I'd rather keep you alive and well, so your secret's safe with me. Merry Bella Christmas to you, too, Chloe."

Chloe reaches out toward Beca and holds out a present. "I know we said no gifts for each other since we decided to go in on those Grouplove VIP tickets, but I still wanted to get you a little something. Or make you something, rather."

It's a scrapbook filled to the brim with pictures from their four years together. Of all the girls, but Beca notices, over and over, photos of just the two of them, at competitions and practices and parties.

"It's a reminder that we've all still got each other, no matter where we all end up next year," Chloe explains quietly. "That you've got me. Always." She might recognize that the moment's a touch too tender, because she notes, with a laugh, "And if you ever need a reminder of an enjoyable Christmas, if you're having a dreadfully normal one without all our lovely traditions, hopefully this does the trick, too."

"Chloe," Beca whispers before she pulls her in for a tight hug. "This is incredible. Thank you so much. And I made a gift for you, too."

The brightness in Chloe's eyes dims a touch as she registers the CD sleeve, perhaps because she's received plenty of musical gifts from Beca over the years, so she hastens to tell her, "It's not exactly a normal mix. I mean, uh...can I just show you?"

Chloe's already grabbing a pair of earbuds from her desk and she plugs them into the audio jack in Beca's laptop.

"Thanks," Beca mutters, trying to not betray her terror. She double clicks the play button once the CD's recognized. "Alright, first track, here we go. You should dig this."

Chloe gasps at her recognition of the song. "You made me a Christmas mix?!"

Beca's heart leaps at her excitement and she grins. "Just wait."

_Sleigh bells ring,_

_Are you listenin?_

_In the lane,_

_Snow is glistenin'_

_A beautiful sight,_

_We're happy tonight,_

_Walking in a winter Wonderland._

Chloe claps a hand to her mouth and drops it to stammer, "That's...that's _you_ singing. _You_ made me a Christmas mix."

"Yes, I was there when it happened, Chlo."

"Oh, shut it." Chloe swats at her arm. "I'm just used to your mashups. But I like this better."

Beca's words catch in her throat, and all she can get out is, "You do?"

Chloe nods insistently. "Of course! Your voice is amazing, Becs. I don't get to hear you sing on your own enough in the group."

Chloe starts softly accompanying, harmonizing perfectly, and Beca's kicking herself for never thinking of this before. She takes a deep breath as "Walking in a Winter Wonderland" fades out and summons up as much confidence as she can.

"I don't wanna play the whole CD for you now, but there's one more song I think you'll like a lot."

"Okay," Chloe nods. She frowns as a guitar, synth, and drums swell together. "What is this? I don't recognize it."

"You wouldn't," Beca answers cryptically. "And it's called…"

 _"You forgot to come up with a title?"_ she groans inwardly.

"It's called 'Take A Chance This Christmas'," she invents just before her voice comes into the track.

_Searing cold, took an icicle stab to the chest_

_I made Santa a list, got a lot to address_

_Trippin' through the holidays in a bit of a haze,_

_But getting lost, feeling found,_

_Shit, they're kinda the same._

"So this is a Beca Mitchell original. Color me impressed."

Chloe Beale might just be the death of her, she recognizes, as the song continues.

_Georgia's hot, but I always been a cold madam_

_Unless I'm holding a mic in my open hand._

_Fuck a studio, this ain't professional,_

_I remade my room, now it's a confessional._

_Laying on my bed, I scribble witticisms,_

_Words coursing through my bloodstream, easy lyricism._

_Normally I leave 'em out, call 'em false religion,_

_But I'm speaking to my muse,_

_I heard she wanted something different._

Beca tries to break her gaze away from Chloe as she spills her guts in the chorus, but she can't.

_Tearing off the paper, unwrapping the presents_

_This sentiment's a bit late, hope you fuckin' get it._

_I'm terrified, but still admitting what you mean to me._

_You're everything I want, fuck what's underneath the tree._

Chloe's pupils dilate like ink drops and she lets go of a contented sigh.

_Thought I could tell you how I felt_

_At that party, I was plastered_

_Down a shot of heartbreak,_

_Band-aid it with laughter._

_You know I'm mediocre at communication_

_Spent forever biding time,_

_Now I'm done with hesitation._

_Played with this idea the day we got the tree,_

_Honed a hungry edge to my curiosity_

_What happens if I catch you watching me?_

_I'm feeling braver than my past self ever thought to be, and…_

"Your muse must mean a lot to you," Chloe whispers as the chorus repeats.

"Yeah," Beca murmurs back before the instrumentals fade to a Mac Miller-esque piano outro.

_This could be way more than a holiday affair._

_At least, that's what I tell myself,_

_When I kinda hope to dare._

_And I'll dare to hope_

_That you won't give me the slip,_

_Spent so long clutching on to this_

_I lost my fuckin grip._

_This might come as a shock,_

_Know I'm usually reserved,_

_But I think I could deliver_

_Everything that you deserve._

_Meant to write a Christmas song,_

_In case you hadn't heard._

_So merry Christmas, honey,_

_That's the end of all my words._

All they can do is breathe for what feels like an eternity before Beca croaks out, "What'd you think?"

Chloe's eyes have gone glassy and they're blown wide open. "You wrote this song for me. About me. And—and I'm your muse. And you want me."

Her stunned sentences all emerge as statements, not questions.

Beca's said enough in the music, so it takes her a second before she rediscovers her voice. "It's a portion of what I've wanted to tell you since last year. The most important parts, by my estimation."

"You've known? Since last year?" Chloe's voice cracks on the upswing of her response.

"Not exactly." She's going out on a limb, and her next steps could make it snap under her weight. "I—I didn't know that I knew," she confesses. "Not until a couple of weeks ago, actually. But looking back on it...falling for you was like watching my parents' cars get buried under the snow, back when we lived in Seattle, when blizzards rolled in once in a while."

Chloe's nodding at her, like she's pretty sure she gets it, but Beca's done letting her feelings go unsaid. "It happened slowly. Then all at once."

"Oh." Chloe's eyes flicker around the room and Beca's never wanted to search them out more and suddenly she's drowning in their crystal blue persuasion. "I think it was like that for me, too. I was intrigued by your musical talent and taste from the start, obviously."

"You _did_ invade my shower to recruit me," Beca manages to banter back, and if this whole thing goes horribly sideways, at least they'll always have their friendship at their core.

"Yeah," Chloe laughs. "And we got to be fast friends, too. But it wasn't until close to the end of sophomore year when it hit me. Why I was weirdly jealous of Jesse even though I knew he treated you well and you were happy. And then my brain just went, Beca's your person. You don't wanna see her with anyone else. And I was like, okay, yeah, that tracks."

She knows she should say something, anything, in response to this revelation, but hearing that Chloe wants her in a way she'd only let herself dream about renders her silent, like Lilly.

Chloe quietly prompts her after a beat. "So. Beca. The bit about delivering everything I deserve?"

She swallows and tries to not choke on air. "Yeah?"

Chloe leans in close to her. "I _really, really_ think I deserve a kiss."

Beca laughs in disbelief. "Re—really? Seriously?"

Chloe nods and shifts even closer to her. "The best one you can offer. Because…" Her voice comes out husky and it nearly shatters Beca as she presses on. "I—even when Bree told me to move on, even when I tried dating other people...there's a reason those flings always burned out. You've had some kinda hold on me for a while now."

Their movements—a head tilt, a hand on a waist, the way they lean toward one another—come together in a choreography that suits them perfectly and this has to be someone else's life.

Beca's got one hand tangled in auburn waves that have haunted the shoreline of her dreams and her sleepless nights for the better part of two years. The other is trembling against Chloe's jawline, and Chloe's gradually fluttering her eyes shut for her.

They brush noses. It's disgustingly romantic. She'd hate this if it was with anyone else.

"Thanks," Beca breathes, with all the intent she can muster, "for waiting for my dumb ass to catch up with you."

Chloe's breathy laugh sticks its landing in her rib cage and thank _God_ she finally worked up the nerve to stop resisting her feelings, because this feels like heaven. Beca opens her eyes for a second, drops her gaze to her lips, watches Chloe follow her lead, and wills her mind to lock this image—Chloe Beale, on the cusp of kissing her—in place for eternity.

Beca's not sure who instigates it, but she's sure she's kissing Chloe soft and slow and Chloe's kissing her back and every fantasy she's ever composed about her just _melts_ in comparison.

The fluttering in her chest settles, like, _"You're home now,"_ and Beca can map her life out with another Chloe-centered delineation.

Aside from the two of them meeting, this one is absolutely, positively her favorite so far.

They're gazing at each other like they just won the lottery when they break apart and for someone who's usually not the best with words, Beca's finding all the right ones lately, even if the next three are lame as hell. "Merry Christmas, Chloe."

Chloe kisses her once more with deadly ease, gives her a grin that seems to say, _"We've finally arrived here,_ " and answers in kind, "Merry Christmas, Beca."

Beca backs away from the vulnerability, just for a second. That instinct for self-preservation is still there. "Would you mind, um, keeping my song between us?"

"Of course," Chloe answers softly. "It's incredibly personal, and honestly? I wanna keep it that way. That, and you," she skims her hands along Beca's frame until they settle on her waist, "are the best Christmas gifts I could ever ask for."

"Agreed. One hundred percent. Good luck topping this to whoever my secret Santa was."

Chloe grins. "So Santa Beale delivered a wonderful present, then, did she?"

"Oh my God, dude, you are _such_ a nerd."

"Says the woman who wrote me an original Christmas song to confess her feelings," Chloe observes.

"Touche. It's even more annoying knowing that you're right."

"Hey, look on the bright side," Chloe encourages her, with a teasing lilt to her voice and a mischievous gleam in her eyes. "If you're ever really, truly annoyed at me for something else I do, I'll just kiss my way out of trouble. And then kiss you some more."

Beca pretends to weigh that glorious offer for a second. "I'm cool with that."

"Figured you would be," Chloe chuckles as she leans against Beca before getting up off her bed. "I'm pretty sure the rest of the girls will be up soon, so, shall we go downstairs to get ready for the festivities, my…?"

The end of her sentence is suspended in limbo, frozen in uncertainty, and Beca's not exactly sure what to do with it for a second, either, until she suddenly is.

She grabs Chloe's hand, pulls her in for a quick kiss, and answers, "I'm your Beca, and you're my Chloe. You good to roll with that for now?"

Chloe beams at her and affirms, "More than good, darlin. More than good," and, again, Beca has to take a second to confirm this isn't the most hyper-realistic dream she's ever experienced.

It's not.

It's better.

**

As festivities master, Chloe gets the day started with making breakfast. Fortunately, aside from Amy, no one's too hyper, but they're all awake enough to form a pancake-making assembly line, and Jessica and Ashley rescue the bacon from the oven before it gets too well-done.

Beca surveys their absurd, musically-inclined kingdom over a mug of hot chocolate from the small loveseat that unofficially belongs to her and Chloe, and she can't even fake any indignation when her favorite ginger pops a Santa hat on her head.

"This is nice," she murmurs, unsure if she's talking about the scene or their transition. Probably both.

"Indeed. I think this is the best Bella Christmas I've ever experienced. No small thanks to you," Chloe answers quietly.

Beca's spent too long resisting this, so she doesn't bother this time. She surveys the rest of the room and, satisfied that no one's watching them, swiftly offers Chloe a hot chocolate-laced peck on the cheek.

She might not have done enough scouting.

"Oh my God!" Emily shrieks, gesturing at both of them on her return from the kitchen.

" _Fuckin' Legacy,"_ Beca sighs to herself as she and Chloe get put on the receiving end of a roomful of stares. Of anyone who could've seen them, Emily was probably the worst, in terms of generating the biggest reaction.

"What is it?" Cynthia Rose asks.

"They…you..." Emily's eyes keep ping-ponging wildly back and forth between Beca and Chloe before she points at the hot chocolate stain on Chloe's cheek, but everyone else looks as confused as when she started rapping her original song at the riff-off.

They have a way out, thanks to Emily's near-total incoherence. Or a way forward.

Chloe turns toward her and breaks the silence first. "How do you wanna play this?"

Thank God music isn't their only coded language. They're also absurdly fluent in _Friends._

"You know when Joey can't tell anyone, after he knows?" Chloe nods, and Beca goes on, "It's just so tedious. And I don't think anyone here is gonna be a Ross."

"So then…" Chloe's gaze drops to her lips, in a sterling replication of the lead-up to their first kiss, and she glances back up into Beca's eyes for a second, silently asking, _"Can we tell them like this?"_

Beca's grin back is all teeth. _"Yeah. We can, babe."_

She normally hates kissing anyone with an audience—even during her first kiss with Jesse, she'd gone for it more because he wanted his perfect movie moment—but that concern vanishes when Chloe cups her face in her hands, tangles her fingers in her hair, and releases a breath she catches in her mouth just before their lips meet for an instant.

All hell breaks loose as they pull apart.

Emily squeals again, Flo drops the bacon slice that was halfway to her mouth, Stacie wolf-whistles, Lilly quietly claps, and Amy shouts, "It's a Christmas miracle! A Christmas Bloe!"

"So...are you two together?" Jessica and Ashley chorus.

"Not officially, but I think we're sort of trending in that direction. Would you agree?" Beca asks Chloe, wincing as her voice cracks.

Chloe, for her part, simply nods, and Beca can't help but grin at the fact that she's kissed her silent.

"You two are so smitten already, look how much you're both blushing. It's a little disgusting, but we love y'all," Cynthia Rose comments with a chuckle.

"Did anyone have Beca n Chloe officially beginning their gay partnership on this date?" Amy calls to the room at large before receiving murmurs of dissent. "No? Alright, I'll check the wager pool today or tomorrow. Whoever guessed the closest to December 20th has got about seventy bucks coming their way."

Chloe and Beca gape at each other, then turn back toward the blonde. "All of you here beton whether or not we'd start dating?" Chloe asks incredulously.

"No, we bet on _when_ you'd start dating. Or when you'd have your first kiss, at least," Jessica corrects her, and Ashley chimes in, "It wasn't just us, either. Aubrey, Jesse, and some of the other Trebles got in on it."

"You all need Jesus," Beca sighs, shaking her head, to which Stacie replies, "You're lucky they wouldn't go with my idea of 'accidentally' locking you both in a closet during a party and letting this," she gestures at the two of them sitting flush against each other, "sort itself out a while ago."

Chloe groans and answers, "Stacie, you need...I don't even know," drawing laughs from the whole gang.

At the end of the day, with everyone sated from hot cocoa and sundry treats, and her favorite girl snuggled up next to her on the couch, Beca flashes back to the day that really, truly started it all. To when they went out to get that Charlie Brown tree.

"Hey, Chlo? Remember how you said you'd make this Christmas extra special?"

"Mmhmm," she nods against her shoulder.

Beca presses a kiss to her temple and murmurs contentedly, "You did better than that. You made it magical."


End file.
